Dangerous Games 2: Deadly Pasts
by the Black Rose
Summary: Chapter 2// (Relena's POV) Sex with Heero has never been a tender or passionate act, aside from the first instance when we had been lost in memories of another time.
1. Prologue: Never Let Go - The rain always...

**Never Let Go**

The rain always reminds me of her - tears from a cold, gray winter sky collecting on her face and lashes as she fixes me with that look, that look which says a thousand words, but only three that really matter. "I love you." 

It's so appropriate that it's raining now, today of all days, as I walk along the bustling street - trying not to drown in a sea of faces and black umbrellas.  The sky always seems to know my pain.  It rained, too, the day she boarded that airplane and broke my heart again.  But my most vivid memory of her will always be that first kiss we shared so long ago – tears mixing with the rain as she let me hold her tight against my chest.  I'll never understand what brought us together that day, just like I don't understand now what keeps us apart.

Blond hair wafts by, and I turn, hopeful for a second, but knowing in my heart it isn't her.  I cross the street, waiting for a break in the traffic before darting through puddles that splash my shoes and soak the cuffs of my slacks.

I watch from the little iron gate separating the park from the city's lively and constantly changing faces.  The small crowd that had gathered slowly disperses, leaving a lone figure standing at the grave.  She is the one I've come for.

Relena…

She stands alone, dressed in black, wearing a long winter coat, but allowing the icy rain to touch and moisten rich long locks of gold.  The bitter wind cuts through my own trench coat, and from here, I can see her shiver as well.  

Not aware that I had made a conscious decision, my legs begin to move - to carry me to her side.  I stand next to her, not making a sound, but holding my umbrella to shelter her from the rain.  She glances up, and I notice that our fingers had somehow become intertwined.  I turn to face her, gently untangling my hand before placing it under her chin.  She looks up at me with tear-filled eyes, as I whisper softly, "I'm sorry," before bending slightly to caress her gentle lips with mine.  

As I begin to pull away, her hand touches my cheek, holding my face to hers, unwilling to break our kiss.  I make a solemn vow that this time, I won't let her go.

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

I stand by my father's grave and wonder at this emptiness inside me.  The other mourners are leaving, the service is over, and a man who was once so rich in life is no different than any other that rests in this place.  It's raining, again.  Why does it always seem like my life is marked by rain?

The droplets fall from the sky and soak into the freshly turned earth at my feet.  I'm overwhelmed by a sense of deep remorse, but I wonder that I can't seem to cry for this man that was the only father I'd ever known.  

My thoughts quickly detour to a different subject, one equally as painful as that of my father.  Heero.  God, I always think of him.  I love him so much.  Why is fate so cruel?  It brings us together, only to be torn apart.  The months I have spent away from this place - away from those eyes that remind me of the icy winter wind that chills my blood - have only convinced me more that I could never love anyone else.  So, if love is so strong it conquers all, why can't it do away with this pain from our past?

The rain has stopped.  I look up and see the sky has become a black silken material - an umbrella.  I turn to him, noticing our hands have somehow found each other.  He touches my face, and whispers, "I'm sorry."  His eyes stare down at me; I can never hide from those eyes.  Suddenly, I feel his mouth, warm and soft, cover my own.  I close my eyes and pull his face closer, relishing the rush of feeling that seems to radiate from where he's touching my lips.  

He pulls away, and I feel something warm and wet on my cheek.  He wipes my tears away, still staring into me, searching for answers I don't have. I can't cry over the death of my father, but I can cry for him.  I could always cry for him, I think, as I bury my face in his chest and sob.  The arm not holding the umbrella wraps around me, and I pray that this time, he won't let me go.


	2. I've never been one who could express al...

Dangerous Games 2: Deadly Pasts

By the Black Rose

AN: Well, as promised, if a bit late….  You guys know by now, they're never short.  The original one was 25 chapters, or 45,000 words.  This one will be no less.  

I do apologize for taking my time on getting this posted, here.  I have quite a few fics sitting in various stages of completion on my hard drive – but inspiration has only recently struck as to just where I'm going with this one.  Knowing the bad guy is a good thing….  ^__~   Expect more flashbacks to their high school days, as we find out more about Heero's life growing up.  Each chapter is written in first person point of view, and I switch characters per chapter.  So, this one is in Heero's, the next in Relena's.  Chapter 3 goes back to Heero, then 4 gets into Duo's head.  5 is the mystery chapter, and I don't think I'll reveal whose perspective that is from just yet.  Just wanted to lay out the game plan a bit.  Thank you to those of you still reading.  Much love, Rose.

**Chapter 1**

Heero's POV

           I wake up as I always do, never gradually like most people claim to experience, but immediately alert almost as if there is a switch I can flip on and off in my brain.  I look to my left, as I am instantly aware of a warm presence that has been sorely missing over the last few months.  Her golden-blonde hair glistens in the young sunlight streaming in through the cheap aluminum blinds on my apartment window. It hits my eyes at an odd angle, forcing them shut again.  Strange emotions burn themselves into my chest, and I realize how much I've missed her.

            Completely unwilling to leave the comfort of my bed, I gather her into my arms, pulling her tight against my body. I touch my lips to her forehead and can't help but breathe in the clean scent of her hair. She stirs from my movements.  _Relena…___

            A few moments pass, or days, it doesn't matter.  I feel the odd desire to just continue to lay here, despite the fact it's Monday morning – a sarcastically glorious work day.   I open my eyes again as logic finally takes hold of my actions and I give in to my call of duty.  I have time for a quick shower before dragging my ass into the office.  My pleasant mood quickly dims as I think about my job.  I'm still on desk duty for Treize.  Of all the people that had to get a 'fabulous career opportunity' in Dallas, why couldn't it have been my boss?

            I tromp into the bathroom and turn on the shower.  I don't have time to care what the water temperature is, and so the cool streams hit my body, drowning the remnants of fatigue and replacing it with sharp, frozen needles throughout my skin. I take a shuddering breath and wet my hair.  Because of my distraction with rising this morning, I'm running late. But even a lecture from Treize won't ruin my mood today.

            There exists, within the known universe, a fundamental rule of lateness: when you are running only slightly late, intangible if unknown forces take great pleasure in conspiring against you to make slightly late turn into really really no-way-you're-boss-will-miss-it late.  As I sit at a virtual stand still on the long Virginian highway, I can't help but let my mind wander to the events of last night.          

_            "So, how's __Dallas__," I ask, my eyes drinking in the light of her form, despite the darkness throughout my small apartment.  I haven't seen her in months; her job has kept her 'busy', and the last time we spoke, before her father's death, we ended up in an argument.  But right now, I can't remember why…It seems so unimportant._

_            "It's all right, I guess." Relena inclines her head in a thoughtful pose, but her eyes avoid mine.  "The traffic is terrible and I always have too much work, but you know how that is." She pauses for a moment before continuing.  "How's Duo? Has Treize__ let you off desk duty, yet?"_

_            She always knows how to get a reaction out of me.  I can't help but let my mouth twist into a grimace.  "Still on desk duty.  Duo's all right.  His oldest son's having some trouble in school, but other than that, they're all fine."  With that answered, we fall back into an awkward silence._

_            "I'm sorry that I couldn't make it back last month…"She peers up at me through long black lashes, as if trying to gauge my response without having to look me in the eye._

_            Anger flashes for a moment at her words. "Or the month before that," I snap automatically, my hands clenching into white-knuckle fists.  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them.  'I'm sorry,' I think, but for some reason, I can't say it out loud._

_            I can see the water in her eyes as she looks away.  "I…I've realized something since the night - the night you called to tell me about my father…" Tears begin rolling down her cheeks.  I frown at the display of emotion; my hands itch to wipe away her tears, but I manage to keep them still.  But I've always hated to see her cry._

_            "I know it sounds so cliché, but it's really true.  And he died not knowing that I still loved him…"She bows her head, her hair bobbing in front of her face as she continues to break down.  A lump catches in my throat that I cannot ignore, and I find myself moving towards her. My hand comes up to rest on her shoulder despite all the hurt and anger I've been harboring over our recent distance. All my carefully manufactured walls suddenly dissipate like a useless mist, and are replaced by a genuine feeling of concern.  She's lost her father; she is permitted to cry over her grief. _

_With an inaudible sigh, I attempt to comfort her.  "Relena, I'm sure he knew," I say, trying to sound tender, which is not something that comes easily to me._

_            She wrenches from my grasp and her head comes up, her eyes finally locking into mine.  "No! I was so hateful to him.  I told him to butt out of my life," she cries in a strained voice.  Her eyes hold that look of utter helplessness that could eat away at my resolve.  Her face is flushed, her eyes puffy and bloodshot.  I can see the lines of grief etched into delicate features swollen with pain.  Damning myself to whatever fate she'll deal me, I pull her into my arms and rest my cheek on the crown of her head. My heart tells me it's where she belongs, but does hers say the same?_

_"You had every right to, Relena.  But he knew that just because you were angry with him didn't mean you no longer cared." I try to make my voice sound soothing, but I don't think I quite managed it.  I really have no talent for comfort._

_"Relena," I began.  Her muffled voice comes from my chest and so I draw back to let her speak._

_            "No, Heero, I…" her jaw continues to move but no words make it passed her lips.   The strain of the last few days must have been too much for her - the grief coupled with the startling news her father had been murdered… _

_            I take a deep breath and push her away, ignoring the protests of a body fate has somehow programmed to only respond to her.  "Relena, you should get some rest. Take my bed, I'll pull out the sleeper sofa in the living room." I turn away and run a hand through my hair.  It isn't right to take advantage of her when she's vulnerable.  She will be here for a few days; we had time to work things out between us. She doesn't respond, so I turn back to face her, and am astonished to see a new flash of hurt spark in her eyes.  _

_            "So it is over…" Her voice is barely audible in the stillness of the room._

_            I have been called stoic; people claim I am an expert at hiding my emotions. But around her, my expression becomes this brilliant canvas with everything in my heart painted in glowing colors that even the darkness cannot hide.  The shock of her statement is soon replaced with a darker feeling of resentment.  I can feel my pulse quicken with my anger and I glare down at her.  "Is that what you want?" My voice sounds more severe than I had intended._

_            Her eyes widen and she meets my gaze.  Any mask to her emotions is gone; the intensity of those sparkling blue eyes steal the air from my lungs and I can feel my anger slipping from my protective grasp.  _

_            She reaches out and places her hand on my arm.  I fight not to flinch at her touch. _

_"No, I don't want it to be over, Heero.  That's what I've been trying to say.  I've become too involved in all the wrong things - a career, my independence… And suddenly I realized that what I missed and what I needed was you." Her voice is still set in that soft, melodic timbre as she speaks.  "It's been difficult, I know, but please don't say you gave up on me - I don't think I could take that right now."_

_            I can't say it; I've never been able to.  I've never been one who could express all that I feel in words.  I did only what I knew how, I pulled her close and seized her mouth in a kiss that I hoped said everything she needed to know. _

_ I had promised her I'd wait, and I had stayed true to my word…_

           A loud horn blares from the car behind me, startling me from my remembrances of how it had felt to touch her soft skin and silky hair.  I blink myself from my daze and realize I need to turn left, or I'll miss my light.  On any other day, I'd be tense and stressed from the miserable traffic jam, and pissed off at anyone honking, but today I just smirk and make the turn into the parking lot.  Nothing can ruin my mood.

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

         "You're late, Yuy," Treize greets me at the doorway in his two piece suit and wearing his typically cross expression.  He falls into step with me as I walk into the secure area of the Washington, D.C. FBI Metropolitan Field Office where my gray, five foot cubicle is located on the sixth floor.

         "Bite me," I growl, schooling my face into a dark scowl.  But I must not have done a good enough job of sounding pissed off at the world because he stops mid stride, causing me to turn and look back for the reason why he let me off so easily.

         "She's back, isn't she?" Blue eyes twinkle in tanned features. Hints of gray already seeping into the temples of his hairline give away his age, but his face looks younger than a man of thirty-six with two ex-kids and an ex-wife.

         "None of your business." 

         "I happen to know for a fact that she's in town because she's scheduled to accept some sort of award on her late father's behalf at that memorial service Governor Winner is holding this afternoon.  What I didn't know was whether or not she would be staying with you.  I guess I now know the answer to that," he says with a smug smile.  My left eye twitches; he irritates me, but I have patience this morning, so I ignore him.  I again start walking towards my desk.  To my perpetual annoyance, he follows.

         "Did you receive anymore strange emails this weekend?" He inquires as we wind our way through the maze of cubicles.  More than once I have found myself marking the resemblance between this office and an experimentation lab.  But if there's cheese lying about somewhere, it won't fit in these cardboard boxes they call our 'personal space'.

         "No, our 'informant' has been quiet these last few weeks. I wonder if he's moved on."

         "I don't know, but I've been having this weird feeling lately."

         I shrug.  "Sounds like a personal problem to me," I say in my typical monotone.  I want him to go away, but dutifully turn on my computer and watch it boot up.

         "My question is why did he pick you to contact?" 

         "Hn," I growl as a frown creases my forehead.  I have been wondering that myself.  How does an informant just randomly pick heero.yuy@fbi.gov to send his precious information to?  It would have to be someone I know. Correction, someone that knows me.  I sit down and log into the network waiting impatiently for the logon script to execute and update my virus scan software.  Damn security bloatware.  I can tell he's going to stay until I retrieve my email and either lay his fears to rest or provoke them further.

         "Oh, and good news.  Your psych evaluation came back, and I've decided to let you go back to active duty.  Expect your next paycheck to reflect the change," he says, his eyes glued to my computer as it finishes updating. It finally allows me access to my files.

         "Effective today?" I ask and open up my email program and begin downloading the multitude of corporate garbage being sent out on a regular basis.  The government is no different than most large corporations in that respect.  The blue bar inches across the screen.

         "Yes.  Effective now."

         "Hn."  Finally the darn thing is finished.  I scroll down the list of messages and my breath catches as I see the post from an unknown recipient with no subject line.

         "You're welcome," he says absently, and his hand comes to rest on the back of my 'ergonomic' chair as he leans over to read the email I'm pulling up on my screen.

        THE MEMORIAL SERVICE AT THE GOVERNOR'S MANSION.

        That's all it says.  In vain, I pull up message headers and run the tracing program I modified after failing to track the last piece of mail I received from this mysterious informant.  But whoever it is, he's an expert.  I find nothing. I look up at Treize who is still standing just inside the confines of my cube.  "I have to go."

         "Yuy, we don't know what this means, or if it's the same guy," Treize argues, but his face lacks its usual conviction whenever he contradicts me.  It's a feeble excuse and he knows it.

         "It is the same guy.  It matches the pattern, and the other two times he was dead on.  I don't know who he is, but if there is something going on at that memorial service today, I'm going to be there – officially or unofficially doesn't matter." My eyes narrow as I inwardly burn with the thought.  "Relena could be in some danger."

         "Yuy, if the guy is good enough to want to make his attempt on Governor Winner out in public, then it's not likely there will be any stray bullets threatening your girlfriend.  He'd have to be a professional." He leans his head back on my wall, bringing his hands up to cross over his chest.  "But we don't know if that is what is going to occur.  The informant doesn't say.  He's never tipped us off to an incident before it happens – only pointed out clues to what went on after the fact." Treize says in a strained voice and glowers back at me. 

         But he knows I'm right.

         "He's already had his say on Darlian's death, alerting us to the fact it was a murder and not a suicide." I shake my head slowly from side to side, considering possible alternatives.  But nothing else fits.  "This is the only logical explanation. So like I said, I'm going to be there." I take a deep breath, raising my chin obstinately to the point where my seething eyes meet his gaze.  "Am I taking a team, or going alone?"

         He knows better than to contradict me, I think.  He knows too well that when it comes to Relena, I won't be moved.  He nods slowly.  "Take a team, I'll pull Sloan and Rodinall off the strangler case. Maxwell just finished up his latest, so you can have him, too.  I'll radio ahead to the Governor that you're on your way."  He pauses, then adds, "Maybe there's some link in their administration – if it is what you think it is and this informant is alerting us to a possible assassination attempt.  I'll assign someone to backtrack through Winner and Darlian's histories to see if anything questionable pops up."

         I nod, surprised by the fact that he acquiesced so easily to my demands. I am thankful for once that Treize has his ambitions and so he doesn't offer to call our Richmond office and assign the case over to them. Is this his way of trying to apologize for the time he almost succeeded in removing her permanently from my life – when he tried to blackmail her into marrying Trowa to protect me?  

         "Hn," is all I say to the man before he finally turns to leave.  No apology will ever be enough, and he should know that by now.  But I am thankful he'll let me go, no matter what his reason is.  

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

AN: This is newly revised (Huzzah!) as of today 2/27/02.  **Chapter 2 just needs some revisions, but here is a preview of what's to come:**

(Relena's POV, set on the same day as the original epilogue)

_            "I'm fine," he says in a harsh, gravelly voice.  The years spent in the Barton Foundation have made him harder, but I can still see that lost little boy he was never allowed to be. He's there, always there, watching, listening, trapped beneath an icy tomb, but waiting patiently, desperately, for someone to say the magic words to set him free.  _

_And I am still searching…_

And from **Chapter 3**

(Heero's POV)

My thoughts suddenly die away, and the world seems to slow down as something glints in my peripheral vision, and causes my heart to practically stop beating in my chest. 

"Everyone down!" I have the presence of mind to yell out to the crowd.  A loud gunshot echoes in the square as I lunge across the distance towards the startled Relena who turned at the sound of my voice.

         Mass chaos erupts from the crowd. I can hear the screams of the women in my ears and the orders from Treize being shouted through my earpiece, but all I know is that I'm too late….

         "We need a medic!  Call a God damned ambulance now!"

Thanks guys… I hope you will enjoy this.  ^__^  Love, Rose


	3. I knew I couldn’t hide from the FBI

AN: This story is coming along unbearably slow.  All I can say is 1st person POV and the overall plotline have been difficult – even though I had a vague idea of where it was heading as soon as the first one ended.  There will be more mystery and surprises, along with delving back into Heero and Relena's time together in high school.  It's just…slow, and I'm going to have to do some research.  Thank you to all those still reading for your continuing, if somewhat reluctant, patience.  

Love,

Rose

Dangerous Games 2: Deadly Pasts

Chapter 2

            I stretch and my mouth opens involuntarily in a wide yawn.  My eyes flutter open and I'm aware that I'm alone in his apartment.  I check my watch and realize I've slept in.  Eight am, wow, that's late compared to the typical five o'clock start to my workday.  

Work.  I don't like to think about my job, even though I have a rising career with Bentley Veeder McCann (BVM) – the foremost law firm in Dallas, in Texas, really.  They put themselves on the legal map last year when Bentley and McCann made headlines defending the Blue Murderer - the Fort Worth man that went around painting his victims' faces blue before killing them.  The case was sensational and picked up by all the media.  I shudder every time I think about that case….

BVM had wanted me for my international law concentration; I had no business helping on a murder case of that magnitude.  My worth to the company lies in the fact that besides my extensive study of international law, I have first-hand knowledge of various customs and procedures stemming from being the daughter of a former Ambassador.  It was a great opportunity, it still is, and I pride myself on the fact that I have not only lived up to, I surpassed their expectations. 

And yet somehow it all seems hollow to me, now.  It had always felt somewhat thin - not wholly as satisfying as I had once thought it would or should be.  And so, I had thrown myself further into it, living only for my work until the day he called and told me my father was gone.

Unwanted, the memory of our last argument surfaces in my mind.

_"You're not happy," I whisper, my hand reaching up to touch his arm.  He pulls away to where I can no longer see the pinched expression on his face._

_"Should I be?" His voice is harsh and strikes an ominous chord within my chest.  My face falls, I didn't expect this, and yet I should have.  _

_"It's a great opportunity.  It would be foolish to turn it down." _

_"So you've already decided, then," he says in a clipped tone and moves towards the door. I can see the taut lines of his shoulder muscles outlined in his shirt as he hunches over the door knob, pausing when he hears my voice.  But that's how he retreats.  When he can't control his emotions any longer, he runs away. _

_"I wanted to talk to you first, but I thought…"_

_"You thought.  Just what did you think, Relena?" His neck inclines to one side, but he keeps his back towards me.  "I can't go with you, if that's what you're asking." _

_Tears well, threatening to spill down my cheeks.  He isn't going to understand what I am going to say next.  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, fighting to maintain my control - preparing myself for what is coming next.  "I wasn't asking you to." My voice is barely audible in my sparsely furnished apartment that can't help but hammer the point home how truly temporary my stay here is._

_He turns to face me. And for one brief instant, he slips and I can see hurt and anger flashing in his deep sapphire eyes - accusing me with a burning fury that was visible nowhere else but in his eyes.  In that moment, I wanted to take it all back - to reach out and comfort him, but it was too late.  _

Back then, I was still searching for something – in him, in me, I didn't know in whom or where I would find the answer.  Why couldn't he understand?

"Fine," is all he says as he storms out the door of my apartment - apparently forgetting that he hadn't taken me to dinner.  

He never did ask me to stay.

A sigh escapes my lips as I think about how stupid I was then.  If there is one thing that has become vitally clear to me in the last few days, it is how short life really is to be wasted on something that takes us away from the ones we love.

I can't help the smile that forms on my lips as my mind wanders to the events of last night.  His touch had been so gentle…

Sex with Heero has never been a tender or passionate act, aside from the first instance when we had been lost in memories of another time.  Since then, it had always been pleasurable, but somewhat mechanical - more an act of lust and what often seemed to be an inability to hold himself back.  Like he didn't want to give in to his more primitive urges, and as such only gave that one part of himself while straining to keep an emotional wall between us.

He never held me afterwards.  He would always get up and go immediately to the shower, as if anxious to wash away any trace of our intimacy.  Then he would dress and retreat into his work or something else.  This behavior had caused numerous problems between us…but last night was different.  For the first time, I feel like I truly hold his heart the way he has always held mine.  

I roll over and glimpse the time on the alarm clock situated on the dark oak nightstand next to Heero's bed.  Eight thirty. I'd better get up and get dressed.  The Governor's car will be picking me up in a little over an hour for the memorial service being conducted outside the state-owned mansion later today.  I sigh and roll out of bed, padding over to the bathroom to start the shower.  

Once the water is running, I go back out into the bedroom to unpack the toiletries I will need to get ready.  I glance over at the bed and think again about how good it felt to be in his arms.  The thought suddenly occurs to me that I have given up too easily in the past - but not anymore.  This time I will fight, no matter what the cost to my already broken heart.  God only knows if we would be given another chance to get this right, and it is too important to let go of so easily.  

I won't let him run away from me again.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

I walk down the steps to the waiting black, stretch limousine.  Quatre has gone all out, I think as the driver holds the door open for me to climb into the back seat.  I settle into the plush leather cushioning and look out the window as we travel the ninety-minute drive to Richmond, VA.

The landscape is beautiful and so is the time of year.  We drive in silence towards our destination, the sunlight dancing on the highway and the other cars on the road.  It's so good to see the sun after experiencing the miserable rainy days that had settled for what seems like months in the sky and over our lives.  

Ignoring the beautiful day, I glance at my reflection in the tinted glass of the car window and shake my head at the image there.  "How did you get here, Relena," I ask myself.  And again, the whole story seems absolutely absurd.  Almost eleven years ago, I 'met' Heero, actually I saw him rob a convenience store with his brother, and kill the clerk.  The poor old man had unwisely tried to shoot back at the masked man giving the orders – Heero's now deceased brother, Odin.  To save his brother's life, he committed an act he would regret the rest of his – he shot and killed the old man whose only crime he committed that day was being too scared to think straight.

Somehow or another, probably a security camera recording, the two brothers found out I witnessed the whole scene.  But what they didn't know was that I fell in love with the lost young man who had such hauntingly poignant sapphire eyes, or that I would keep his secret forever.  Heero and I ran into one another a few weeks later at the homeless shelter where I used to volunteer; he was doing community service for 'boosting' a car.

We met again through a weird twist of fate that January in high school; we were actually in calculus together!  The strange, broodingly silent young man that promised to kill me ended up dating me for a while, and I couldn't have been happier at the time.  And then one day, he just up and disappeared.  I should have guessed my father and brother had conspired to send him away, but that information wasn't revealed to me until ten years later, when we were thrown together through an even more bizarre twist of fate- he was part of the FBI team sent to investigate my father's dealings with the mafia organization ran by my then-boyfriend Trowa Barton.  Heero was an undercover agent, posing as an assassin and it was his job to take the Barton Foundation down from the inside.  

I almost married Trowa in order to keep the FBI from finding out what Heero had really been up to while he was working undercover.  The only man I've ever truly loved had a hard time discerning right from wrong once he infiltrated the organization.  Two years is a long time to keep a moral compass aimed the right way – especially when it's a borrowed instrument you were never taught to use.  Crime was a way of life for him growing up, and he and Trowa had much in common.  They parted as friends, or at least as two men who held a mutual respect for one another.  

I remember when Heero found out I had not gone with Trowa into the obscurity of being in the witness protection program…

_A knock sounds at the door, and I freeze. It's late.  Since I got back from Quatre's inauguration, on the heels of my father's resignation, I had been in the process of unpacking a few things in the bedroom of my new apartment.  I hadn't told anyone my new address.  The incessant rapping can only mean one thing._

_            I take a deep breath and walk to the door, squaring my shoulders before I dare to open it.  Even though I had been silently preparing myself, the sight of him standing in the doorway still takes my breath away._

_            "Heero…"_

_            "May I come in?"_

_            I move to allow him entrance to my tiny apartment.  He looks around at all the boxes and then back up at me.  He seems to sense that I am not all that surprised to see him here._

_            I close the door and turn back to face him, a faint smile playing on my lips. "I knew I couldn't hide from the FBI," I say in a quiet voice, in answer to his unspoken question._

_            Heero crosses his arms and leans back against the wall to the kitchen.  "You didn't go," he says, his face ever set in that expressionless mask.  "Why?"_

_            I shake my head. It is spinning and reeling from his presence. "I'd offer you something, but I haven't finished unpacking, and I haven't been to the grocery store…"_

_            "I'm fine," he says in a harsh, gravelly voice.  The years spent in the Barton Foundation have made him harder, but I can still see that lost little boy he was never allowed to be. He's there, always there, watching, listening, trapped beneath an icy tomb, but waiting patiently, desperately for someone to say the magic words to set him free.  _

_I am still searching…_

_            We stand in an awkward silence for a moment.  Then he finally meets my eyes.  I sigh. "Trowa said I'd be in too much danger.  I don't think he wanted to admit that he knew I didn't love him."  _

_Heero studies my face carefully, as if measuring whether to trust me or not.  "Relena…I'm sorry."_

_I expected any number of different things – an apology was not among them.  He's still able to surprise me.  "For what?"_

            He frowns.  "What?  Relena, after everything I said to you, and everything that's happened, you ask me for what?"

_            I shrug and turn away from him.  "It wasn't your fault.  You didn't know that Treize doctored those pictures." _

_            "I also didn't know that he threatened you."  I don't have to turn around to know that there's a deep scowl currently marring his features.  _

_            I freeze with my back facing him.  I was glad I didn't have to look at him while I told this half-truth:  "I did what I thought was right, you didn't deserve to go to jail for trying to survive."_

_            "You shouldn't have ever offered to go, Relena," he seems to hesitate for a moment before continuing.  "And I would have never forgiven myself if something had happened to you," he said softly, his voice quavering slightly over the words._

_I heard the minor inflection and closed my eyes to the pain that came with hoping for something I'd only held for a few moments – something I wanted to hold onto for the rest of my life…_

The car comes to a halt in front of the governor's mansion, interrupting my reverie.  I can't believe how quickly the time has passed.  The door opens and I almost fall down from the shock of seeing Heero standing there, dressed in his dark navy suit, with an earpiece in one ear, and those sunglasses on, which hide the eyes that would only glance at me severely, anyway.  He was working, and when that happens, I become Miss Darlian as he is never to be distracted from his duties. 

He held out his hand to help me from the car, and as I stand, I catch a glimpse of a familiar figure in the corner of my eye.  It's Duo Maxwell, still wearing his hair in the insanely long chestnut-colored braid he's had since high school, despite the FBI dress codes.  I throw Heero a questioning glance that I know he sees behind those mirrored lenses. He ignores it and shuts the car door behind me.  

I sigh and turn to walk up the steps to the mansion.  Once inside, I only have to turn my head to see Governor Quatre Raberba Winner in deep discussion with a man in a dark gray suit – another FBI agent.  I recognize him, too; he's that bastard Treize that I despise with all my heart - also Heero's boss.  Wait, if Heero's here, that means he's finally off desk duty.  I turn a dazzling smile up at him, but again, I am ignored. A less determined woman would be furious with him by now, but I know him too well.  His behavior has nothing to do with me; he just feels the need to be strictly professional when he's on duty. 

 I wonder what he's doing here.  I wonder why Treize allowed him to come, certainly not for my sake…what could be going on?  I look over at Quatre, the only one whose eyes aren't covered by those infernally effective sunglasses.  He looks worried, but when I catch his eye, he smiles kindly at me.  

I feel Heero bristle beside me, and I can't help but shake my head.  I grab his hand and give it a brief, reassuring squeeze before letting go; he scowls at me for the display of affection, but I can feel some of the anxiety leave his body.  

I turn my head to study his profile, and I can see fear etched into his posture and in the way his jaw is clenched, forming a tight, stubborn line.

And it's enough to terrify me.

************************************************************************

AN: Somewhat of a recap chapter, the part where Heero knocked on her door and apologized was the original ending to the first story.

Also, to remind you….

Zechs is in prison serving a life term.

Trowa is in the witness relocation program.

Quinze is also in prison serving a life term.

Dorothy works in Quatre's administration.

I think that covers everyone not mentioned in these first few chapters.  

Thanks for reading!

~Rose


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